


Toss and Turn

by mickian



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:51:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4925704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickian/pseuds/mickian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Connor doesn’t know for how long he lies on top of Oliver’s bed.</i>
</p>
<p>Set right after their last scene in 2x02.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toss and Turn

Connor doesn’t know for how long he lies on top of Oliver’s bed.

On  _their_  bed, now, he thinks, in the apartment he dumped himself and his four moving boxes into. His shirt is getting crinkled and he should probably change if he follows through with his plan of never getting up again, but… then again, if he’s never getting up, it doesn’t really matter.

He’s been feeling more guilt and self-pity in the past months than previously in his life combined, and any time he thinks it’s finally easing up on him something new gets added to the list of why he’s a selfish piece of shit. Oliver’s the only one lately who helps distract him from all of those feelings, but they get twice as intense when it backfires, when Oliver’s the one he’s hurting, reminding Connor of every wrong decision he’s ever made. He’s tired of it – guilt is not a good look on him, he’s a law student and by nature unapologetic, he wasn’t  _meant_  for this.

Both needing, and worse, wanting to take another person into consideration when he makes decisions is a place he never saw himself ending up in.

Not that he’s been opposed to romance itself; he’s simply never experienced it personally before, not in this way. He never saw it as something he wanted for himself, and he certainly wasn’t ready for it when it hit him. It’s not that Connor hasn’t enjoyed cuddling and kissing and only craves the part where he gets an orgasm when he’s with someone. He’s looking for the intimate aspects as well as the physical pleasure when he hooks up with guys – but he’s never liked the idea of doing those things with the same person, again and again.

Not until Oliver.

Which was a tricky road to navigate, because he wanted to stay in the happy feeling Oliver’s presence brought him, yet he couldn’t skip his old routines. He knows he both wanted to have the cake and eat it too, knows he screwed up, but he really thought it was over and done with by now. All he had to do was prove to Oliver that he really wants to be in his life, make up for the hurt and doubt he caused. Turns out it’s far from that simple.

Then again, nothing in his life seems to be ‘simple’ anymore.

Connor lets out a sigh and continues to stare up at the ceiling, listening to the chop-chop of Oliver cutting vegetables and the sound of him moving pots and pans around in the kitchen. The apartment is slowly filling with the scent of curry, because Oliver’s still cooking, cooking for the dinner they eat together at the end of the day – even yesterday when things were awkward and stilted, Oliver still clearly hurt.

And now Connor is lying around, useless, being the one feeling hurt, even if he has no right to. He was the one who begged Oliver to tell him, even convinced himself it’s what he wanted, to even things out.

But whatever he had expected Oliver to say, it wasn’t this. He feels slow now, for how the thought didn’t even cross his mind. He thought perhaps Oliver would bring up some boyfriend he had before Connor, someone he had been together with for years and thought he could trust, planned to spend the rest of his life with and still missed every now and then, or something. So selfish, to even consider the fact that the only way he would get hurt by Oliver’s situation would be out of jealousy.

Or in worst case, maybe Oliver had been with someone when they were on their break, still making Connor a part in all of this but a much more minor detail. He would have been sad that he had contributed to it in any way at all, but he wouldn’t have been the  _cause_  for it.

He’d thought – …

Anything but this, really.

Because whatever Oliver tries to say, it is Connor’s fault. He knows Oliver, Oliver who finds the thought of getting tested together with his slutty boyfriend in a cheap clinic  _romantic_ , and a sober, happy Oliver would never have unprotected sex.

Even the first time they slept together, Oliver, drunk far beyond the point of ‘tipsy’ to disguise how nervous he was – over giving away information he wasn’t supposed to talk about or because he was sleeping with Connor, Connor still isn’t sure about – had insisted on protection before Connor even had a chance to ask about condoms.

“Dinner’s ready.” Oliver says from the doorway of the bedroom, breaking Connor out of his thoughts with his soft voice. Soft and nice and pleasant, everything Connor loves about Oliver and everything that Connor himself is not. “Not gonna eat?”

He should. It’s the least he could do, get up and eat the dinner his boyfriend has cooked them even when Oliver would have every right to be mad, throw things at him and hate him for the rest of their lives. When he would have every right to never let Connor into this apartment again.

At his continued silence Oliver lets out a sigh and crosses the room. Connor feels the dip in the bed and hears two thumps of Oliver kicking his shoes off on the floor before he lies down next to Connor, quietly staring at the ceiling with him.

“You’re right, you know. It’s not 1995,” Oliver says after awhile. Sweet and light, like Connor is the one who needs comforting. As if Connor is personally hurting over the fact that he told dumbass Asher stuff he shouldn’t have told anyone, and not hurting because he hurt Oliver by being selfish.

Yes, he had needed to tell someone, someone who wasn’t Oliver, but he didn’t know who or how, so it was easy enough to let it slip out disguised as a cover-up for Asher’s nosiness. Even so, what he told everyone at the office seems small in comparison to what Oliver just told  _him_ , and he wonders why Oliver hasn’t been mad at him long before Connor screwed up the way he did.

Maybe Oliver has, and he’s relieved he finally had a reason to say it out loud.

“I just… didn’t want to tell anyone, yet,” Oliver says. “Doesn’t matter what year we’re living in, or – mean that I’m ashamed, it’s just – it’s still personal. And we’ve barely figured all of this out ourselves.”

“I know,” Connor manages to get out, because of everything he owes Oliver, talking is the least of it.

Of course Oliver hasn’t been going around being secretly mad at him, Connor thinks and clenches his jaw. Oliver doesn’t as much as snark something about how he thought Connor said he ‘could take it’ about the truth. Even now, when Connor is hurt by the consequences of his own recklessness and stupidity, Oliver gives it some time and then still comes after him to talk it out. To make sure he’s okay.

When Oliver gets hurt by another one of Connor’s mistakes, Connor can’t even go after him, because he has work to do.

He owes Oliver so many things he can never give him. “I should move out,” he says.

“What?” Oliver turns his face to look at him, at first bewildered before he swallows and says, calmer, “Is that… what you want?”

“No. I  _should_ , for your sake. But I don’t want to.” Even now he can’t be anything but selfish, thinking about his own needs. If he just moved out and broke all ties with Oliver, Oliver wouldn’t be living with a liar. But if he moved out and broke all ties, Connor wouldn’t have Oliver to come home to.

“Good.” Oliver goes back to looking at the ceiling. “Then you’re staying. I’m pissed, yeah, you  _hurt_  me, yeah, but… this is never gonna work out if you leave every time it gets slightly rough, you do realize that, right? Fighting and getting through it is sorta part of this whole relationship thing.”

‘Slightly rough’ isn’t how Connor would phrase being responsible for giving someone an incurable disease. Treatable, yes, not the end of the world the way it used to be, no, not nowadays, but it’s not something you  _want_  your boyfriend to go through.

“I feel like I more than hurt you,” Connor says.

Oliver stays silent for a beat before he says, lightly, as if it’s a joke; an offer to ease the tension,“You really should know by now that if it was that bad and I wanted you to leave I would have no problem kicking you out.” Connor can’t help the snort that leaves him, because it’s true – smitten by him, yes, Oliver’s never made that a secret, but he’s never put up with Connor’s shit either. “It’s getting tiring always finding you at my doorstep looking like a kicked puppy not long after, though. So maybe we should just work shit out and deal with it, yeah? So we won’t… always have to go through that.”

“…I just don’t know how to say sorry for this – ”

“Good! Because you don’t have to!” Oliver turns to look at him, waits until Connor is facing him back. “Yeah, I was – sad, and did something really stupid, but I forgive you for what  _you_  did. What  _I_  did was my own decision, no matter what had happened. And – could you stop acting like me being positive is okay and ‘not the end of the world’ when it was my mess, but now when you’ve found out you’re somewhat involved suddenly it’s not like that anymore? Don’t you get how that makes me feel?”

“Shit. You’re – right. You’re absolutely right.  _Shit_.” Connor drags a hand over his face before dropping it down on the bed again. “'Course you’re right, you’re always friggin’ right.”

Except it’s not just that, he thinks, it’s not just you testing positive, it’s not just me cheating on you, it’s not just that one stupid decision that also ended up making someone  _kill themselves_ , it’s me lying about major parts of my life and I can’t seem to bring anything good into  _your_  life –

Connor startles when he feels Oliver’s fingers stroke a question against the back of his hand, but relaxes almost immediately, unfolding his palm in reply. Oliver slips his hand into Connor’s, tangles their fingers together and squeezes. “Yep. I am always right.” he says. “Plus, I really haven’t gone through all of this just to end up empty-handed and dumped by you, you know.”

Connor scoffs again because if he doesn’t, he’s pretty sure the lump in his throat will turn into tears in his eyes, and he does not want to deal with it right now. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Good. Then don’t make me dump you.”

He looks at Oliver and tells him the truth. “I’m trying.”

“I know.” Oliver’s quiet again for some time before he says, “Okay, but like… can you at least see where I’m coming from, with the other thing? Just imagine if I told everyone I work with, some people you haven’t even met, about your drug problems.” Connor tenses next to him, Oliver noticing immediately. “See! It wouldn’t be fair.”

Connor doesn’t trust himself to say anything, do anything, so he lies still, still tense. What can he say to that? Because that is who he is now, who he has to be. He’ll be an addict for as long as they’re together.

It’s one thing to tell a lie to protect himself and everyone involved from something much bigger than any of them, but he chose one he has to keep feeding Oliver. Connor wishes he could go back, to have told him something else that night, something where he said it and that was that, he would have been done with it. He’d never have to think about it again – but the lie is a part of him now. His past, his present, his future; he’ll always be an addict. He has to be an addict or else he’ll be a liar. Connor isn’t afraid of lying and twisting truths for his own gain, never has been, it’s what he  _does_ , but Oliver came into his life and suddenly it matters. It matters to be honest.

Oliver sits with him on some of the few nights Connor isn’t working or studying, and they eat pizza in front of the TV, Oliver’s feet in Connor’s lap. Instead of focusing on the movie he asks about Connor’s issues, how it all started, what he can do to help, if there’s anything Connor wants to talk about. Reassures him that he’s there for him, he just has to promise to be open and honest. Always so caring, wanting what’s best for him and being patient even when he shouldn’t – and Connor has to sit there and tell Oliver stories of things that never happened, in as few words as he can get away with.

And Oliver believes him, of course he does. Oliver believes Connor gets uncomfortable when the subject is brought up only because he’s uncomfortable about his addiction, which makes Oliver even more reassuring and understanding.

Connor can’t even distract them with sex, can’t even fuck the guilt away.

If he wants Oliver in his life Connor has to keep pretending until it’s true, even to himself – and he wants him, he does want him, so badly. Which is the worst part in all of this, worse than any lie he’s ever told. It’s so entirely selfish, deciding to fight for them, wanting to keep him, when Oliver doesn’t even know all of Connor.

“Or worse,” Oliver mumbles next to him, making Connor glance over at him again. “I could tell strangers about your sex addiction.”

“Hey! I – wh – I’ve told you, I do  _not_  have a sex addiction!” he says, because there are some lines that don’t need to be crossed no matter what.

“And I’ve told you I’ve read about this, addictions tend to overlap and – ”

Connor reaches for a pillow and aims for Oliver’s face, Oliver’s hands coming up to shield himself as he lets out a squeaked noise.

“Yes, we all know I enjoyed a good healthy amount of sleeping around,” Connor says and pushes himself up on one elbow, “but now I’m happy and healthy living in a monogamous relationship where we’re not even  _having sex_. So. It’s really not that – …” He scrunches his nose. “Actually it is hard, it’s really hard. I could show you exactly how – ?”

“So bad.” Oliver groans and rolls his eyes, and Connor can’t help but to grin. “I’m happy too, you know,” Oliver says and gives him a small smile. “But I’m allowed to be pissed at you when you screw up! You could get to be pissed at me too, if I wasn’t so perfect.”

Connor laughs, can’t even argue with that. “Yeah. I guess that’s fair. Though I have to say you could turn down the personal attacks a bit, at least in front of others. Trust me, Michaela and her damn princess ego do not need any more encouragement when it comes to thinking that she’s better than everyone else. Or, well. Better than me. I don’t care what she thinks of other people.”

Oliver snorts. “Okay. Fine. I take it back, you’re not self-absorbed.” He fidgets a little, his foot bumping against Connor’s. “Or. I mean. A little. Sometimes. You can be.”

Connor looks at him and lifts an eyebrow.

“You’re getting better!”

“So reassuring, Ollie.”

“You’re pretty, though?” Oliver offers. “I’m not taking that one back.”

No one knows how to insult him with so much fondness as Oliver and Connor laughs again, the warm ridiculous feeling he gets in his chest when he looks at him blooming up, washing out his anxiety.

Connor bites his bottom lip and wishes he could tell Oliver everything in that moment, prove to them both he really isn’t self-absorbed. Share everything that’s been going on, why he’s so close to his classmates, why he trusts them not to judge or talk to anyone else about anything Connor tells them. Why he really was freaking out outside Oliver’s door that night, the whole truth of why he can’t be alone at nights.

He wants Oliver to say it’s okay, for him to fix Connor’s feelings over all of the other shit too – but he knows that would really be the end of them.

He’s told himself it’s for Oliver’s sake, it’s because Connor can’t drag him into all of this, can’t ask him to stay quiet with a secret so big, but really, deep down, he knows regardless of all of that, he wouldn’t tell him. Because he is selfish, and he doesn’t want Oliver to leave him.

So instead, Connor leans over to press a gentle kiss to Oliver’s lips, the first one after their fight when Oliver came by to drop the keys off.

Oliver, trusting and forgiving as he is, lets him, only pulling Connor closer in the bed they’re now sharing.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for these two! I'm a bit nervous. Feedback is always appreciated, if you feel like it. :)


End file.
